I experienced only one moment when I thought I may have performed one too many tasks. That was while I was taking my car for its annual car wash. That was one of my two bonus achievements today. It seemed serendipitous. I just happened to drive home on a different route, which goes by the car wash. I happened to notice there was no line at the car wash. I happened to have a coupon for a free wash. I happened to be able to locate the coupon. Really, it seemed like the universe was lining everything up for me. I thought about how nice it would be to show my mother that I had finally washed my car.I pulled up to the kiosk. The idle girl plucked my coupon from my fingers, looked at it skeptically, and issued me a receipt. I pulled my car into the track. The feral man grabbed the ticket from under the wiper, mouthed “neutral,” and off we went. We, meaning my car, with me inside.
On the plus side, I had remembered to detach my radio antenna and roll up my windows. However, it quickly got warm inside the car. I thought about the unhappy intersection between flesh creatures and hot cars. Dogs and babies, for example. Middle-aged flabby women. I reassured myself that the car wash was not in direct sun. It would be highly unlikely that anything bad would happen. It couldn't be any worse than riding the Pirates of the Caribbean. I pictured myself overcome by heat and humidity and made sure my car door was unlocked, just in case the guy at the end of the line had to yank me out and resuscitate me.
Sitting too long inside a car inside a swampy car wash in 97°F heat could have produced a less-than-optimal outcome in the form of me red-faced and unconscious from heat exhaustion. Fortunately the ride was only three minutes long, and I had a bottle of water to suck on when the humidity started to rise. I admired the soapy bubbles, and before I had time to start to pant, we emerged into the hot air blower unscathed. I watched little beads of water rush away from the windshield. My wipers jumped energetically but remained attached. The guy at the end gave my side mirrors a cursory swipe, probably realizing only the top layer of dirt had been removed and that it would take a lot more than a three-minute car wash to restore the shine to this old Ford Focus.
The car died as I was looking for a driveway to get back on the street. Or maybe I just killed the engine by letting the clutch out too fast. I spent a long thirty seconds trying to start the car again. Eventually the universe lined up the ignition, the starter, the battery, and the engine, and off we went. I followed a slow bus up the hill, pausing patiently when the bus stopped to drop off and pick up passengers, annoying the hell out of drivers behind me who thought I should have gone around. No, I'm all about respect for buses. Further, I know that drivers coming down the hill are notoriously rambunctious.
I parked my car in the dusty gravel lot by the Love Shack and paused to admire the sheen of a poorly washed car. I replaced my antenna and noticed dust was already settling on the hood and roof. Oh well. No worries, at least, not for another year. I think I still have one more coupon.
It was refreshingly cooler inside the apartment, but I knew it wouldn't last long. We don't have air conditioning here at the Love Shack. We have a ceiling fan. The big front window has three layers of protection against the western sun in the form of crinkled Mylar shades, a wide vinyl roll-up shade that occasionally rolls up by itself, and cotton drapes (well, actually they are Home Depot cotton paint dropcloths but nobody cares). The three layers are enough to block about half the sun's rays from penetrating the main room. The air gets progressively hotter as the afternoon sun moves toward evening, and the ceiling fan does an excellent job of stirring it up so the heat infiltrates all corners.
Soon I'll go out again to drive over to the retirement place and take the old ladies out for their after-dinner cigarette. We'll complain about the heat and the food, then go back inside and relax into the coolness. Jane will shuffle off to her room. Mom and I will watch Fixer Upper or Flip or Flop for ten minutes. Then I will go back out into the blazing evening sun and drive home. Summer in Portland. These are my halcyon days. It doesn't get much better than this.
